


One Time, In Hawaii

by WhyDoIWrite



Series: Flashback Fridays [3]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Friends to Friends With Benefits to Lovers, Hawaii, Instagram, Sunsets, That photo but really the other photo, That touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25797409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: A photo stirs up some feelings that never quite went away.
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Series: Flashback Fridays [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747891
Comments: 11
Kudos: 99





	One Time, In Hawaii

Sonny posts the photo as a #tbt.

Unnecessary, Lindsey thinks. No point in remembering _that_ , because that led to other things, and other things led to other things, and then those other things stopped, and now they’re almost 2000 miles apart.

And clearly, it’s purposeful, because Sonnett hardly ever posts anything anymore, and never does anything without a purpose. When was the last time she posted a TBT anyway? 

They talk every damn day at least three times a day. Clearly, considering that Lindsey has been the one so vocal about missing Sonny, and not the other way around, this is Sonnett’s way of trying to say _something_. If the purpose is to let Lindsey know that feeling is mutual, she could have just said, “I miss you, too.” That would have sufficed. But in true Sonnett form, she doesn’t actually say anything. She leaves it hanging. Leaves it up to Lindsey to determine if she’s going to be the one to say something. To do something. And she damn well knows her post is going to get a reaction, because that picture was taken right after the _other_ picture.

So this is Sonny’s fault, all of the feelings Lindsey’s feeling right now. Stuck in this hotel room. Alone. For a month. A month during which she was supposed to see Sonny again. Finally. After three months apart. Fuck COVID. No seriously. Lindsey is fully aware that she’s being selfish, because she’s healthy and Sonny (thank God, because Florida is a shitshow) is healthy, but, like, she _misses_ Sonny. They were never supposed to be apart for this long. From SheBelieves to the friendlies in Utah was exactly one month. That was no big deal. They’d been apart longer. And then things got worse and, ok fine, they’d have to wait until the Challenge Cup – three months – longer than they’d been apart in four years, but still doable. There was an end in sight. A date to circle on the calendar. Something to look forward to. But then… well fuck Florida, too. 

Back in March, they left like it was nothing. Ok, not nothing, a little sadder than normal. But, at the time, it wasn’t a big deal. Now, seeing that photo, Lindsey suddenly realizes it was a big deal. If she had only known that this was what was to become of their 2020, maybe she would have done things differently. At least made their goodbye better, not a rushed hug and a “see ya in a few weeks” in front of the DWF Starbucks before heading off to her gate.

It’s easier to blame Sonny’s stupid post and a raging virus than it is to face feelings though.

And Lindsey should be grateful, really. At least it’s not the photo where Lindsey’s hand is placed so purposely on Sonny’s ass. She can’t believe that one exists. 

Can’t believe Ellie even had the wherewithal to take it and text it to Sonny. They were just joking. It was a brief moment in time. It’s not like she _left_ her hand there.

Can’t believe she didn’t kill Sonny for putting it on the interwebs. There was no way that Sonny was unaware that post-World Cup, her every move wasn’t stalked by thousands of fans and everything she put out there was reposted, retweeted, and reshared everywhere.

On second thought, maybe she _can_ believe that she didn’t kill Sonnet, actually. She was kind of flattered that Emily painstakingly edited it on their flight back. Lindsey doesn’t like feeling feelings, but if she’s going to feel them, well, that photo brings up some pretty nice ones.

But she also can’t believe Kelli references it. _Like, what the fuck_? Some people had to have forgotten it. Some people probably didn’t even know about it. And now, it’s probably at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Again. 

She can’t believe it _still_ exists in a space where people can so easily access it. But… it’s also kinda satisfying that it does. Because Emily cherishes that photo, which makes Lindsey think that maybe it means _something_.

It’s not that they’re not touchy. They are. Obviously. And it’s not that photographic evidence of their touchiness doesn’t exist – there’s plenty of it – holding hands, hands resting on inner thighs, hands grabbing inner thighs. A brush against a stomach. A kiss on a cheek, sometimes silly, sometimes not. There are photos of looks shared between them too, and those photos say a lot. But that one is off the charts unexplainable. 

Awkward.

God, why was she cupping Sonnett’s perfect ass so… gently?

She had a boyfriend. 

She was just trying to be funny. To make Sonny laugh and relax because sitting out there on that overhang scared her. Lindsey thought she knew everything there was to know about Emily; it was always a welcomed surprise when she learned something new. Another layer of Emily Sonnett peeled back. She didn’t know Emily had a fear of heights. Not a normal fear of heights either. A weirdly specific fear of heights in _open_ areas. Not planes. Not roller coasters. Not the top of the Eiffel Tower. Heights where she perceived she could fall. Where she wasn’t enclosed or strapped in, as if that made anything safer. Hence the sitting. Sonny said they were less likely to fall if they sat, which, ok, yeah, that wasn’t false. But she actually crawled out to the edge. Lord only knows why Ellie didn’t take a picture – or even better, a video – of that. _That_ was funny!

Them perched precariously on the edge of a teacup was funny. 

Lindsey’s hand on her ass wasn’t funny.

She wasn’t thinking much about her hand placement in the moment.

Ok, so that’s a lie.

She also most definitely wasn’t thinking when she pushed Sonny up against the wall when they got back to their two-bedroom condo after a scenic catamaran cruise later that night.

Maybe that’s a lie, too.

Could have been the alcohol doing the thinking, at least in the latter situation. She was totally sober when she cupped Sonny’s butt. Unfortunately? Fortunately? She’s not quite sure still.

But really, Lindsey’s not above lying to herself.

If she wants to be honest, and that’s a big if, she knows exactly what she was thinking about in Hawaii. 

* * *

She thought about how she could watch Sonny surfing, progressing from what Kelley had taught her with lessons from Cait, for hours. She was proud every time Sonny caught a wave. She was something else every time she caught Sonny’s eye. Sonny looked like an adorable dork in that spring suit. But also, it clung to her in all the right places, and Lindsey would take that look on Sonny any day over a tight dress.

Lying on the beach every day, she thought about how Sonny kept stealing glances at her, and what that might mean. Sometimes, Sonnett couldn’t even form words when Lindsey would ask her a question after she caught Sonnett staring at her abs. Or her legs. Or her neck.

She thought that the sun, the sand, the surf… they just _did_ something for Sonny. She looked so good, all week. She looked so _gay_ , all week. Comfy clothing – and not a lot of clothing either, because they weren’t in Portland, where she was perpetually in a sweatshirt. Lindsey loves her sweatshirts. She especially loves stealing Sonny’s sweatshirts, but Sonny in a cutoff shirt and cutoff shorts was… So. Much. Better. Comfy with herself, where no one knew who they were, and no one bothered them. She was so light and relaxed, save for the time Lindsey coaxed her out onto the cliff, but she eventually calmed down. The entire trip, she was on enough to be hilarious and off enough to be the real her. 

Sitting out on the Catwalk, she thought Sonny had the cutest butt. Maybe this wasn’t exactly a new thought, but she thought it again when she touched it. She thought about how her heart pounded a little bit faster again, after it had already slowed down from the steep hike uphill. She thought about how much better it would have been if Sonny was standing. More room for a little pat or a little squeeze, a real feel. Or a grab. None of that was possible with Sonny sitting. But it served its purpose; it got Sonny laughing and it got Lindsey feeling… things. Sonny’s butt was at the forefront of her mind all day. The next day, too. And the day after that…

She thought she could move to Hawaii with Sonny and live there happily ever after, alternating between their illegal Deadman’s Catwalk hike, and climbing the countless stairs at Diamond Head or Koko Head Crater to stay fit. Lounging on the beautiful sand. Eating seafood to her heart’s content. Blowing money at the International Market. Snorkeling every once in a while. Maybe she could learn to surf.

When the bartender on the sunset cocktail cruise asked Emily, “What can I get for you and your partner?” assuming they were a couple, she thought her heart might have bottomed out in her stomach, and not because she was embarrassed. It wasn’t that presumptuous of him to assume; every other person on the boat was part of a couple. And Emily had booked a cruise with a company that literally billed itself as “The most romantic sunset cruise in Waikiki. So Lindsey went along with it. Ordered for the both of them when Emily didn’t answer him. Stood behind Emily instead of next to her as the catamaran swept across the ocean, hands planted on the railing on either side of Emily, bracketing her there. She rested her chin on Sonny’s shoulder. She spoke in Sonny’s ear, and that was because it was hard to hear over the sounds of the waves, but also, it’s what Sonny deserved. That was kind of the last straw for Lindsey – the sea air and Sonnett’s lavender body spray. The way she shivered when Lindsey tucked her nose into her neck. She slipped a hand to Sonnett’s hip and it felt like the most natural thing ever. Sonnett didn’t pull away, just leaned into her. They watched the dolphins jumping in front of the boat. Dolphins were a sign of good luck. Lindsey sure felt lucky.

On the drive back, in the dark silence, their fingers laced together like always, she thought about getting Sonny naked. Thought about her hands and her lips and her tongue and her hips. Thought about Sonny getting her off. 

So really, pushing Sonnett up against that wall wasn’t her fault. It was Sonnett’s fault. The orangy-red, soul-stirring sunset’s fault. The calming, rhythmic ocean’s fault. 

Or maybe it didn't have to be anyone's, or anything's, fault. 

It didn’t have to be a big deal.

Friends sometimes sleep together, she reasoned.

Emily Sonnett was the best lay of her life, and Lindsey Horan was determined to make sure it was because of Sonnett’s skillset in bed, not because of her own damn feelings.

* * *

What she doesn’t quite know is what she’s thinking now, a year removed from one of the best vacations of her life. Scratch that. _The_ best vacation of her life. Except for the sunburn. That was a low point. And yet... Sonnett somehow managed to make it a high point.

* * *

They took a boat excursion to a private beach – just the four of them – dropped off to spend the entire day in peace. Lindsey thought some nude sunbathing was in order to try to even things out. It’s not like they all hadn’t seen her bare ass before. She was so used to not needing sunscreen on her bronzed legs and shoulders that she didn’t think about bringing any. Ellie offered her zinc. Sonnett offered her reef-safe sunscreen. Lindsey declined both. She didn’t mean to fall asleep while the other three were snorkeling. She meant to turn over after a bit. She meant to put clothes back on. But the trio snorkeled for two and a half hours while Lindsey slept in the soft sand and hot sun, and well, Sonnett took great pleasure in smacking her ass the rest of the trip. Cait and Ellie assumed it was because of the sunburn – and it was – but it was also because it gave Sonnett an opportunity to smack her ass. Her sunburn hurt so bad that she couldn’t stand the sheets touching it. She could hardly stand clothes. They found positions that worked around Lindsey’s little problem. When they ordered room service a couple of mornings later, and the hotel employee heard Lindsey whining about how much her sunburn hurt, he suggested that she put her yogurt on it. Sonnett almost died laughing on the spot; he didn’t know where her burn was, but was nice enough to run back to the kitchen and bring her more. And Sonnett was… kind enough… to spread strawberry yogurt on Lindsey’s bright red bum. She threatened Sonnett’s life if she told anyone, and for once, she wasn’t kidding. It didn’t stop the jokes when it was just the two of them. _“What are best friends for if not to smear yogurt on your ass?” “Will you donkey kick me in the face if I lick it off?” “We could put it somewhere else and I could lick it off… like whipped cream, but healthier! This could be sexy, Linds!”_ But the yogurt actually helped some, enough that Lindsey could sit without wanting to die, so she got past the humiliation.

* * *

Alone in her hotel room, she ignores Rose’s whiny texts about her cramps and thinks about the friends with benefits thing they fell into, incapable of keeping their hands and mouths off of each other once they had started. 

She thinks about how everyone thought it would be Sonnett who would get in too deep and end up hurt. About Tobin cornering her in the change room after training one day when she realized what was going on, and talking to her in a way that bordered on yelling, for Tobin. About Pinoe, who pulled her aside during the victory tour and told her, more gently, that dating a teammate wasn't a bad idea, in and of itself, but fucking around with her best friend was. The common thread: Sonnett had been hopelessly in love with her for years and was going to get her heart broken. Boy, were they wrong. 

She thinks about how ARod, of all people, made her realize that _she_ was the one in way too deep. She blames herself for Sonnett’s trade, though she’s never said it aloud. Mark and Merritt were livid about how she reacted to ARod in Utah, about how unprofessional she had been that night. She’s always believed Sonnett was collateral damage, her inability to keep her emotions in check spurring them to find somewhere else for the defender. Lindsey was so fired up after that game that all she needed was a little spark to use as a catalyst to end things with Russell. His tweet about her best friend was perfect.

She thinks about how once the rumors of Sonnett’s trade started swirling when the season ended, Sonnett was the one who pulled back as Lindsey tried to cling tighter to what they had. She still finds herself sometimes wracking her brain, wondering if there was something she could have done to keep Sonnett from slipping through her fingers last fall. She should have told Sonnett then that she had real feelings for her, feelings that went beyond friendship and way beyond fucking.

She thinks about how she ran right back to Russell when she thought she had lost Emily. She's always been incapable of being alone. And of course, he scheduled a Rush thing in fucking Hawaii of all places. That trip with him was nothing like the trip with her. That trip with him sealed things in Lindsey’s mind that he was not it for her. But Sonnett was across the country spending the holidays in Atlanta, and when they finally got to see each other again, everything went to shit. The trade was officially announced. Sonnett was crushed even though she knew it was coming, denial having settled in her brain for a little while. And when they left camp in Florida back in January, Sonnett didn’t talk to her for two weeks. They normalized things during CONCACAF and SheBelieves, and Lindsey? Lindsey kept her long-standing realization that Sonnett was way more than a friend, or a friend with benefits, to herself.

She thinks about how when the pandemic hit, and the separation seemed exceptionally painful and cruel, the only redeeming thing about it was that they started spending hours on FaceTime. 1400 miles away from each other, they were talking more than they talked when they were in the same city. All Lindsey was looking for was a reason to end things with Russell before she saw Emily again next, determined to finally let Emily know how she felt, and determined to be single when she did it. Russell bitching about her spending more time on FaceTime with her best friend than with him while they were in the same city was all she needed.

* * *

When Sonnett FaceTimes her later, she doesn’t bring the post up. She liked it, she commented on it; that's enough. She can almost hear Sonnett’s restlessness through the phone. She doesn’t bring it up because bringing up the photo would bring up the trip and bringing up the trip would bring up unresolved feelings. 

By the time the tournament's over, the post is just a distant memory. Or maybe that’s just Lindsey lying. Sonnett posts other photos that bring up far less explicit memories. But it doesn't mean that Hawaii is completely out of Lindsey's mind.

She waits until she gets back home to post a picture from that trip, too.

Surprisingly, it doesn't take Sonnett long to comment on it. Predictably, she'd doesn't like it. True to form, she brings it up almost immediately when they FaceTime, and Lindsey can't help but smirk; Sonnett's never had her willpower. Lindsey may be the one with bigger feelings, but Sonnett’s impatience will be the death of her.

"Why'd you post that photo from Hawaii?"

"Uh... I think the caption said it, no? Because I miss my friends and our mini vacay?"

"Yeah, but that photo was the morning after we..."

Lindsey stifles a smile. "Well, Sonny, it would be kind of hard to find a photo from our trip that doesn't conjure up some kind of memory, wouldn’t it? You could say something similar about almost every photo we have, I bet. Let's go through them, shall we?" Lindsey asks, and it's rhetorical, but she flips through the photos on her phone anyway, hold photos up for Sonnett to see. "Here we are, out for a nice relaxing walk the morning after I fucked you up against the wall. This lovely photo of you surfing was right before we told Cait and Ellie you might have sun poisoning so we could go back to the room alone. The luau? That was the same night you made me come more times than I could count. This beautiful drink with, I forgot what kind of flower they said that was. Anyway, I drank that the same night I sat on your face and you fucking stopped to tell me we were never going to do that again if anyone was in the next room because I was too loud. Or how about this one from the top of Diamond Head? That morning, if I remember correctly, you woke up with me between your legs and I seem to recall you muttering something about how you could get used to waking up like that every morning. So unless it's a photo from one of the first couple of days we were there, I'm pretty sure it's going to remind us of _something_." She purposely reminds Sonnett of when she slipped up and mentioned that she could wake up like that forever. She purposely skips the photos they took on the catamaran and leaves out what she wants to say: _In retrospect, this was the night that I fell for you. The night that I believed I could actually be your girlfriend. The night that I whispered in your ear and I thought for a second, maybe you felt the same way, too_. "Why'd _you_ post _that_ photo? You know damn well where my hand was two seconds before Ellie snapped that one."

Sonnett stares at her, dumbfounded. It’s pretty damn difficult to get Sonnett to shut up, so _that_ means something. “So um…”

“So um what?” And it comes out a little more sharply than Lindsey intended it to, and judging by Sonnett’s face, a little more sharply than Sonnett expected it to. She’s not mad at Sonnett, not at all; she’s frustrated with herself. With their situation. And yes, she started their situation, and she didn’t do what she needed to do with their situation when she had the chance, but COVID really fucked up their situation.

“Those are a lot of distinct memories.” 

Lindsey doesn’t know what she was expecting, but she wasn’t expecting that. It’s not that Sonnett’s picking on her, but her face flushes anyway, and now she’s the one struggling to find words. “You are my…” Lindsey can’t finish the sentence. She can’t even think of its purpose anymore, her brain is so cloudy.

“I’m your what?” Sonnett asks, refusing to let it go.

Well, Lindsey reasons, if she’s ever going to say what she’s been thinking, what she forced out of her brain back then but can’t get out of her brain as of late, now’s as good a time as any. 1400 miles apart. No opportunity in sight to see each other. If it all goes south, she can slam her MacBook closed and probably, realistically, not see Sonnett until 2021.

“You’re the first girl I slept with.”

Sonnett kind of sputters at that, like maybe that can’t be true, or maybe it can’t be that significant to Lindsey that she’s still thinking about it more than a year later. “I mean, I thought I was the first girl you kissed, so this is kinda disappointing.” Of course, she’d be able to recover nicely.

“Sonnett!” Lindsey whines. But she’s started so she might as well finish now. “Also, in retrospect,” she says shyly, “you’re the first person who’s made me feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“Sonnett, you know what I mean.”

“Do I, though?”

“I thought I had been in love before, but um, turns out, I was wrong.” Sonnett doesn’t say anything, forcing Lindsey to fill the panicky silence. Lindsey doesn’t quite know how to explain it, but she tries her best. “You know how when you think you’re good at something, and so you fall into this place of confidence, but then someone who’s actually good at it comes along and you’re like, ‘yeah, I’m not good at it afterall?’”

“Can’t relate.”

Lindsey lets out an exasperated sigh. “Ok. Remember when you thought Chamber of Secrets was the best Harry Potter book, but then we read Prisoner of Azkaban, and we were like, ‘yeah, no, _this_ is really the best Harry Potter book ever’? It’s kinda like that.” Lindsey waits again for a response, which she doesn’t get, but she gets a sort of softening recognition in Sonnett’s eyes, so she continues. “Like, I told myself I was in love with Russell because we started dating and that’s what you do, right? You fall in love after a while. But he’s not you. He doesn’t make me laugh like you and I can’t talk to him for hours. I could literally stay on the phone with you every waking minute and I wouldn’t get tired of talking to you. My trip to Hawaii with him sucked, which says a lot because it’s freaking Hawaii. And also, not that it’s important, but I just think you should know, he’s never made me come like you.”

Sonnett visibly preens under that last bit of information, which Lindsey hopes is a good sign because at least she didn’t freak out when Lindsey dropped the L word. But Sonnett still hasn’t said anything; she just keeps blinking at Lindsey through the screen. “Well?” Lindsey asks impatiently. “Are you gonna say it back or am I crazy and this was all one-sided?”

“This has never been one-sided, baby girl,” Sonnett says, as smoothly as ever. “I’m just shocked it took you so long, to be honest.”

“Oh fuck off. Cut your cocky shit out,” Lindsey fires back, and Sonnett breaks out in a huge grin. “You did not know I was in love with you because I didn’t even believe I was in love with you.”

Sonnett skews up her face like she doesn’t buy that at all. But she plays along. “What made you realize your undying love for me, Linessi?”

“This. This distance from you for so fucking long. I hate it!”

“Well, they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder, so I guess that’s believable. So… now what? We just keep growing… fonder… until… fuck… next year?” Sonnett asks, and Lindsey can hear that impatience creeping into her voice. Sonnett wants to see her.

“Well, I guess we’d be really fond by then.”

“We’d be really _something_ ,” Sonnett agrees.

“We can’t fly,” Lindsey says, and that hurts enough to make her voice crack.

“I mean, people _are_ flying. Lots of people flew home after the Cup. Lyss is in North Carolina, and Kelley’s back in DC. Rose is in Cincinnati. They don’t all have the luxury of having parents who will come pick them up and drive them home, princess.”

“It’s a risk,” Lindsey says, soberly.

“Could end our careers.”

“We’ve made it this long…”

“We could use FaceTime for other things,” Sonnett suggests.

“Emily Sonnett!” Lindsey shouts. “We could,” comes out bashfully.

“Are you going to wait for me? Indefinitely?” Sonnett asks quietly, serious now.

“What does that even mean?”

“Like, you’re not going to go back to him because I’m not there. I know how you can’t deal with being alone.”

Ugh. Lindsey feels so called out. “Depends,” she says slyly. “Are you gonna fuck some hot southern belle in the meantime?”

“Well, I haven’t this whole time, so no, I don’t think I’ll start now that you’ve decided you love me.”

“Really? Nobody?” Lindsey asks, and she’s kind of surprised about that.

“Don’t you think I would have told you if I had?”

“I- I- I don’t know,” Lindsey stutters. “Have you just been… waiting for me?”

“You give yourself too much credit,” Sonnett chuckles with a shake of the head. “I’m just picky. High standards.” It’s wholly unconvincing.

“Mmmhmm.”

Sonnett ignores her. “K, so I’m going to update my Facebook status to say ‘In a relationship with The Great Horan.’ You can comment on it if you want to, but no pressure.”

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t even use Facebook.” Lindsey can’t hide the smile on her face because she knows it’s Sonnett’s way of saying she’s all in.

“Fine. Whatever. But the next time you FaceTime me and I’m with Emma, I’m gonna say, “Gotta go, it’s my girlfriend.’”

“Yeah ok. As if I’m ever the one who FaceTimes you.”

“Betcha do now. Bet after we hang up, you’re the first one to call back.”

“Oh, you’re on! First one to call has to FaceTime topless.”

“Braless?” Sonnett asks, hopefully.

“That’s implied, Son.” Lindsey’s sure she’s going to win. Sonnett has no willpower.

* * *

Lindsey doesn’t win.

She hates losing.

But then she hears that little gasp from Sonnett, and suddenly, losing isn’t all that bad. Sonnett’s eyes are transfixed on her, and yeah… she could get used to losing. Sonnett stutters and stumbles, her mind seemingly short-circuiting through her thoughts and words, and Lindsey decides that she just might have to lose again soon.

She figures she can always get Sonnett’s clothes off another way. 


End file.
